Am highly upset with new commercial:
A man riding a horse comes to a river and the horse balks. The man gets off the horse and picks it up and proceeds to cross the river.*voiceover* That's tough.
Cut to sizzling meat on a grill. *voiceover* That's tender.
Ugh, makes me think that the man went and grilled his horse. Must become vegetarian.
8.29.2004
Now tell me...if someone said this to you, would you be flattered or creeped out?
"I have a great deal of respect for the Asian culture and find Asian girls very attractive."
I guess the guy didn't mean anything icky or demeaning by this, but why should placing me into a category (exemplified by waify subservient pixies) make me want to date this guy? Because I'm so not that stereotype. Nope, sir, no big bouncy boobs and blue hair either, while I giggle behind my cute little hand.
Well, I must look at his point of view, if I went around saying, "I have a great deal of respect for the comic book readers' culture and find skinny white guys with mad computer skills very hot," they'd come drooling, equipped with the newest Ultimate X-Men graphic novel. Meowr.
"I have a great deal of respect for the Asian culture and find Asian girls very attractive."
I guess the guy didn't mean anything icky or demeaning by this, but why should placing me into a category (exemplified by waify subservient pixies) make me want to date this guy? Because I'm so not that stereotype. Nope, sir, no big bouncy boobs and blue hair either, while I giggle behind my cute little hand.
Well, I must look at his point of view, if I went around saying, "I have a great deal of respect for the comic book readers' culture and find skinny white guys with mad computer skills very hot," they'd come drooling, equipped with the newest Ultimate X-Men graphic novel. Meowr.
Munkeigh, you should stop obsessing about this personality recipe as my assessment is insanely wrong:
Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com
Three parts mercy? HAhaha, right. If you've ever wronged me, you'd run off in a blaze when I set your ass on fire. But I won't argue with the "brilliance." Even though that one was thrown in there to probably make me feel better. Or the "instinct" although it implies that I sniff around men to check for their virility (which I do, but not so blatantly).
| How to make a g love |
| Ingredients: 3 parts mercy 1 part brilliance 5 parts instinct |
| Method: Combine in a tall glass half filled with crushed ice. Add a little curiosity if desired! |
Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com
Three parts mercy? HAhaha, right. If you've ever wronged me, you'd run off in a blaze when I set your ass on fire. But I won't argue with the "brilliance." Even though that one was thrown in there to probably make me feel better. Or the "instinct" although it implies that I sniff around men to check for their virility (which I do, but not so blatantly).
8.27.2004
Getting bigger breasts might make you dumb. Or is it the other way around?
Breast implant wearers (holders? receivers? what do you call these people?) are short-circuiting their brains. As if they aren't already proving that pre-existing condition.
The new buzz is that they and their children have up to 3 times the amount of platinum in their bodies. No, honey, I'm not talking about the stuff in your ring:
"Distinct from platinum released by catalytic converters in cars, platinum in implants is treated with nitric and hydrochloric acids and becomes very reactive...The heavy metal readily binds in the human body, especially to nerve endings, short-circuiting communication with the brain."
Hmmm, and then passing it onto their children through breastfeeding. Sounds genetic to me. Actually, studies have shown it causes "nervous tics, faulty perception, and impaired hearing and eyesight." Not very pretty--you stumble around, can't see or hear properly, and twitch involuntarily--but you sure have a nice rack.
So, why get breast implants, unless you're a stripper and it improves your tips? The normal response: Because it makes me feel good that I look good. It's sad that society's ideal of beauty drives women to feel bad unless they surgically augment themselves, even though they endanger their lives and their children's lives. Come on people...we don't need to fill out our shirts to be beautiful.
Breast implant wearers (holders? receivers? what do you call these people?) are short-circuiting their brains. As if they aren't already proving that pre-existing condition.
The new buzz is that they and their children have up to 3 times the amount of platinum in their bodies. No, honey, I'm not talking about the stuff in your ring:
"Distinct from platinum released by catalytic converters in cars, platinum in implants is treated with nitric and hydrochloric acids and becomes very reactive...The heavy metal readily binds in the human body, especially to nerve endings, short-circuiting communication with the brain."
Hmmm, and then passing it onto their children through breastfeeding. Sounds genetic to me. Actually, studies have shown it causes "nervous tics, faulty perception, and impaired hearing and eyesight." Not very pretty--you stumble around, can't see or hear properly, and twitch involuntarily--but you sure have a nice rack.
So, why get breast implants, unless you're a stripper and it improves your tips? The normal response: Because it makes me feel good that I look good. It's sad that society's ideal of beauty drives women to feel bad unless they surgically augment themselves, even though they endanger their lives and their children's lives. Come on people...we don't need to fill out our shirts to be beautiful.
8.25.2004
Trying to hold back liberal outbursts for just one night. Thursday night, which starts my year of absorbing mass amounts of military theory, is not the night I'm not talking about. Tonight, that is, is when I've been trying to hold back the
"what the?...oh hell no...war is inevitable my ass...commander and his army represent reasonability and bravery?...war is a common and legitimate means to have others do our will?"
(Well, damn, I knew I should have beat up more people as a child or at least directed others to. I'd make a right smart president of this he-ar countray.)
But back to the reasons for holding back the internal rant...partially because I should be reading, not pontificating in my head, but mostly because I don't want to become one of those crazy people who enjoy conversations with their pets more than humans. OK, that's not too hard to understand, given that people are "unstable, primitive, and violent." Yes, this is what our national policy is based on. Centuries old theory. Hoo-yah!
"what the?...oh hell no...war is inevitable my ass...commander and his army represent reasonability and bravery?...war is a common and legitimate means to have others do our will?"
(Well, damn, I knew I should have beat up more people as a child or at least directed others to. I'd make a right smart president of this he-ar countray.)
But back to the reasons for holding back the internal rant...partially because I should be reading, not pontificating in my head, but mostly because I don't want to become one of those crazy people who enjoy conversations with their pets more than humans. OK, that's not too hard to understand, given that people are "unstable, primitive, and violent." Yes, this is what our national policy is based on. Centuries old theory. Hoo-yah!
8.24.2004
Horror of horrors.
It's been hit or miss with this "next blog" button. My "next blog" turned out to be an almost religious listing of what "nikki *hearts, smiles*" ate that day. breakfast: 1 cup of lucky charms (picked out purple hearts), 1 cup of skim milk, 1 banana, snack: 5 gummi bears. lunch: none. snack: 17 fazoli breadsticks (over 4 hours, so it's OK). dinner: 2 tablespoons of tuna, 4 slices of smoked turkey, 3 slices of ham, 2 pieces stone ground wheat bread, 1 teaspoon of mayonaise, 2 dashes of salt, part of my brain....
You'd think with the vast amount of people on the earth that there would be more originality and variety in this blogful world. Alas no. Hit your "next blog" button and see which category of blog comes up. Will it be:
1) the political rant blog
2) the i LUV my kid/dog/cat/boyfriend/stuffed animals blog
3) the anime and/or porn blog
4) the only your mom would read this/daily activities blog (see above example)
5) the literary/movie critic blog
6) the celebrity blog
7) the social comment blog (mine probably falls into this, with a little political and only your mom)
8) the read my poetry/literary masterpiece blog
9) the depressed I wanna die blog
Maybe more categories exist. But those blogs in questions are usually in portuguese, so I wouldn't know.
It's been hit or miss with this "next blog" button. My "next blog" turned out to be an almost religious listing of what "nikki *hearts, smiles*" ate that day. breakfast: 1 cup of lucky charms (picked out purple hearts), 1 cup of skim milk, 1 banana, snack: 5 gummi bears. lunch: none. snack: 17 fazoli breadsticks (over 4 hours, so it's OK). dinner: 2 tablespoons of tuna, 4 slices of smoked turkey, 3 slices of ham, 2 pieces stone ground wheat bread, 1 teaspoon of mayonaise, 2 dashes of salt, part of my brain....
You'd think with the vast amount of people on the earth that there would be more originality and variety in this blogful world. Alas no. Hit your "next blog" button and see which category of blog comes up. Will it be:
1) the political rant blog
2) the i LUV my kid/dog/cat/boyfriend/stuffed animals blog
3) the anime and/or porn blog
4) the only your mom would read this/daily activities blog (see above example)
5) the literary/movie critic blog
6) the celebrity blog
7) the social comment blog (mine probably falls into this, with a little political and only your mom)
8) the read my poetry/literary masterpiece blog
9) the depressed I wanna die blog
Maybe more categories exist. But those blogs in questions are usually in portuguese, so I wouldn't know.
8.23.2004
Was recently irritated by something, so had to acknowledge the issue.
Pet peeves. Mostly based in truth, but rise to levels of annoyance illogically. Munkeigh pointed out that my list of pet peeves is quite long. Never really noticed, as I'm usually in a state of irritation about something or other, normally for valid reasons, but pet peeves probably keep me irritated just as the valid source diminishes. So, I'll start compiling my list (in no particular order, because it really depends on the level of heinousness the person displays):
Bad bangs. You know, the short inch-long ruler straight strip that usually accompanies black-dyed hair, greasy/pasty skin, piercings, tattoos, dark rimmed glasses, dark red or black lipstick, military jacket with german flag patch, insipid depressed/bored look on face, bad poetry, and bad ass pants (see below). Why. Just why. They are universally unflattering and they top off the goth poser look. Very put together. They make me want to brandish scissors threateningly and cut them to the scalp.
Bad ass pants. I've ranted about these before. I don’t need to reiterate. However, recent instances of bad ass pants remind me of that joke about broken asses.
Feet up on the dashboard. Possibly dangling out of car windows (see dangling body parts out of car windows below) and most likely wiggling around as if to taunt me. Dirty, sweaty, stinky feet. In full sight, eye level, and right in front of the air conditioning vents. Do you think the public likes to inspect your feet? Do you think we love how your feet are freshening the air circulating right underneath those sticky soles? Yum, tasty.
Dangling body parts out of car windows. It isn’t so much that it annoys me, but everytime I see it happening, I have a vision that some bus or mack truck will come along and take that body part off. Really messily.
Adoration of cute Asian stuff. Not the people (although it’s gross and irritating as I am an Asian). I mean merchandising. Hello Kitty. Care Bears. Sanrio. Sure, I liked this stuff. When I was 7. Why do older teens and adults still buy this stuff, carry it around, plaster websites with it, and overall still think it’s cool that Japanese marketing has successfully brainwashed the world? At least they're not goth posers.
Long intros to questions or statements. I understand that we, as the audience, need context. That is not an excuse for the "I was wondering if I could pose you a couple of questions if you happened to know about a few thoughts I’ve had over the last few days that you reminded me just now on these things that a bunch of us have been working on and noticed that they’ve been a problem for some time..." or the "having went to Yale/ law school/ did my graduate degree in this area, I feel I have some knowledge that I can impart as an expert in this field that may be helpful…." Ass-kissy, braggy, irritating, and time consuming.
Stickiness. I am an avid hand washer. What with people’s general hygiene problems, spreading of disease, and my raccoonness, I just can’t understand the sticky. On tables, on floors, on walls, on seats, on door handles, on utensils, and on keyboards. Ick. Just makes me think of urinal cakes. Yes, that dirty. The only instance of sticky that doesn’t bother me is sticky children, because children are inherent sticky, and who could hate children? Unless they are in theaters screaming or have unusually large alien heads. But those are different issues and not pet peeves.
Drivers who give you The Hand after cutting you off. Not the finger, the “my bad” hand. Yeah, your bad. You acknowledge that you did something wrong, possibly illegal or accident-inducing. Does your attempt at fishing for forgiveness make it all better? Like a slap in the face, it does.
The list goes on, but my bouncing monk has reminded me that if I waste my time pondering what irritates me, I forget the good things in life. Like bouncing monks.
Pet peeves. Mostly based in truth, but rise to levels of annoyance illogically. Munkeigh pointed out that my list of pet peeves is quite long. Never really noticed, as I'm usually in a state of irritation about something or other, normally for valid reasons, but pet peeves probably keep me irritated just as the valid source diminishes. So, I'll start compiling my list (in no particular order, because it really depends on the level of heinousness the person displays):
Bad bangs. You know, the short inch-long ruler straight strip that usually accompanies black-dyed hair, greasy/pasty skin, piercings, tattoos, dark rimmed glasses, dark red or black lipstick, military jacket with german flag patch, insipid depressed/bored look on face, bad poetry, and bad ass pants (see below). Why. Just why. They are universally unflattering and they top off the goth poser look. Very put together. They make me want to brandish scissors threateningly and cut them to the scalp.
Bad ass pants. I've ranted about these before. I don’t need to reiterate. However, recent instances of bad ass pants remind me of that joke about broken asses.
Feet up on the dashboard. Possibly dangling out of car windows (see dangling body parts out of car windows below) and most likely wiggling around as if to taunt me. Dirty, sweaty, stinky feet. In full sight, eye level, and right in front of the air conditioning vents. Do you think the public likes to inspect your feet? Do you think we love how your feet are freshening the air circulating right underneath those sticky soles? Yum, tasty.
Dangling body parts out of car windows. It isn’t so much that it annoys me, but everytime I see it happening, I have a vision that some bus or mack truck will come along and take that body part off. Really messily.
Adoration of cute Asian stuff. Not the people (although it’s gross and irritating as I am an Asian). I mean merchandising. Hello Kitty. Care Bears. Sanrio. Sure, I liked this stuff. When I was 7. Why do older teens and adults still buy this stuff, carry it around, plaster websites with it, and overall still think it’s cool that Japanese marketing has successfully brainwashed the world? At least they're not goth posers.
Long intros to questions or statements. I understand that we, as the audience, need context. That is not an excuse for the "I was wondering if I could pose you a couple of questions if you happened to know about a few thoughts I’ve had over the last few days that you reminded me just now on these things that a bunch of us have been working on and noticed that they’ve been a problem for some time..." or the "having went to Yale/ law school/ did my graduate degree in this area, I feel I have some knowledge that I can impart as an expert in this field that may be helpful…." Ass-kissy, braggy, irritating, and time consuming.
Stickiness. I am an avid hand washer. What with people’s general hygiene problems, spreading of disease, and my raccoonness, I just can’t understand the sticky. On tables, on floors, on walls, on seats, on door handles, on utensils, and on keyboards. Ick. Just makes me think of urinal cakes. Yes, that dirty. The only instance of sticky that doesn’t bother me is sticky children, because children are inherent sticky, and who could hate children? Unless they are in theaters screaming or have unusually large alien heads. But those are different issues and not pet peeves.
Drivers who give you The Hand after cutting you off. Not the finger, the “my bad” hand. Yeah, your bad. You acknowledge that you did something wrong, possibly illegal or accident-inducing. Does your attempt at fishing for forgiveness make it all better? Like a slap in the face, it does.
The list goes on, but my bouncing monk has reminded me that if I waste my time pondering what irritates me, I forget the good things in life. Like bouncing monks.
8.22.2004
Packrattiness is a genetic disease, I tell you. I "cleaned out" my study yesterday in anticipation of finally getting a nice, non-25-year-old-scratchedup-piece-of-shit desk. (Ooo, flat expanse of leather covered desk with proper file drawers for all my office junk. Happiness.) Anywho, I had full intentions of separating and chucking out the loads of books and papers arranged in piles around my already double stacked bookcases to make room and organize. What really happened was I reminisced about when I got the books and why I need to keep them and ended up setting aside 10 books and keeping all 100+ others. Stuffed them in boxes and stacked them into a closet. Office looks empty, but only hid junk more effectively in order to get more junk into small spaces.
Which leads me to the genetic disease theory of packrattiness--mus muris sarciniasis or just plain packus rattus rattum. My parents just cleaned out two rooms in their house, holding at least 20 years of stuff that they've effectively hidden behind more stuff. To rearrange and pack more stuff in. But they've evolved one step further...they passed down to me about 6 boxes of stuff (mostly books, argh!!) to perpetuate the disease onto their children (whom already exhibit strong symptoms) and continue our strain of packrat now that we've stopped moving around.
My solution: more bookcases.
Which leads me to the genetic disease theory of packrattiness--mus muris sarciniasis or just plain packus rattus rattum. My parents just cleaned out two rooms in their house, holding at least 20 years of stuff that they've effectively hidden behind more stuff. To rearrange and pack more stuff in. But they've evolved one step further...they passed down to me about 6 boxes of stuff (mostly books, argh!!) to perpetuate the disease onto their children (whom already exhibit strong symptoms) and continue our strain of packrat now that we've stopped moving around.
My solution: more bookcases.
8.19.2004
Yee-ha. I love this stuff*:
1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid becasue they produce children. Infertile couples and old people can't legally get married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously, gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage is allowed, since Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are property, blacks can't marry whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of the minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire counrty. That's why we have only one religion in America.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
10. Children can never suceed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven't adapted to things like cars or longer lifespans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a "separate but equal" institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages for gays and lesbians will.
*I forgot where I got this. Dang me.
1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid becasue they produce children. Infertile couples and old people can't legally get married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously, gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage is allowed, since Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are property, blacks can't marry whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of the minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire counrty. That's why we have only one religion in America.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
10. Children can never suceed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven't adapted to things like cars or longer lifespans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a "separate but equal" institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages for gays and lesbians will.
*I forgot where I got this. Dang me.
8.17.2004
I've fallen into an OCD spiral....cannot stop rating movies over and over and over. Have told myself at least 10 times in the last 45 minutes that this page of movies will be the last. Yet I watch myself hit the continue button and proceed to the next page of 2-3-4-5 stars. Must end brain cell death cycle, or blink once in a while.
I hate when this happens.
I dreamt that I dreamt something epic and meaningful, woke up and told those involved about the dream and it's prophetic message, fell back asleep in my dream and dreamt something else, horrific and utterly stupid, then really woke up to discover that I forgot the whole thing, but that it existed. Dammit. Who needs hallucinogenic drugs when I'm like this normally. Now I have to fall back asleep, reinsert myself in the same circumstances/dream memory to remember what had happened in my dream, then force myself awake to remember it in the morning. And find it was really meaningless and then ponder the reason for dreams. Could be divination...the supernatural trying to talk to me...epiphanies about the meaning of my life...aliens...or late night pizza, mixed in with the Olympics.
I dreamt that I dreamt something epic and meaningful, woke up and told those involved about the dream and it's prophetic message, fell back asleep in my dream and dreamt something else, horrific and utterly stupid, then really woke up to discover that I forgot the whole thing, but that it existed. Dammit. Who needs hallucinogenic drugs when I'm like this normally. Now I have to fall back asleep, reinsert myself in the same circumstances/dream memory to remember what had happened in my dream, then force myself awake to remember it in the morning. And find it was really meaningless and then ponder the reason for dreams. Could be divination...the supernatural trying to talk to me...epiphanies about the meaning of my life...aliens...or late night pizza, mixed in with the Olympics.
8.15.2004
As my favorite monk has always told me:
Anti-social tendencies = getting things done
I spent the weekend mostly indoors--but for the quick jaunt to Red Mullet to grab cornbread goodness and watch Munkeigh enjoy flourless cake (that is, until it undid her) and trip to store to buy temporary, yet sturdy bookcase for holding massive 84 book curriculum for Strategy and Policy seminar class. Woo-hoo, military history in a classroom full of officers, fun, fun, fun. Well, as they always say, keep the enemy close and at least I'll have lots of empirical and theoretical support for why Bush is screwing up. Yay.
Besides that, I slept, cleaned, unpacked, organized, and the house looks exactly the same. Only more vacuumed. What can I say, I have issues with throwing things away. Went grocery shopping for something to eat, as have made vow to cook more, eat less junk, and save money to pay for post-extravagant lifestyle. Doesn't sound like much, but with the hurricanes and that annoying wind, flooding, and constant downpour, it's a bunch.
Deep thought of the day: do we really truly know our friends? Borrowed tapes of "I love the 90's" and found half of tape filled with Nascar Winston Cup race. Mistake...or hidden yearnings of red-neck glory? Hmmm.
Anti-social tendencies = getting things done
I spent the weekend mostly indoors--but for the quick jaunt to Red Mullet to grab cornbread goodness and watch Munkeigh enjoy flourless cake (that is, until it undid her) and trip to store to buy temporary, yet sturdy bookcase for holding massive 84 book curriculum for Strategy and Policy seminar class. Woo-hoo, military history in a classroom full of officers, fun, fun, fun. Well, as they always say, keep the enemy close and at least I'll have lots of empirical and theoretical support for why Bush is screwing up. Yay.
Besides that, I slept, cleaned, unpacked, organized, and the house looks exactly the same. Only more vacuumed. What can I say, I have issues with throwing things away. Went grocery shopping for something to eat, as have made vow to cook more, eat less junk, and save money to pay for post-extravagant lifestyle. Doesn't sound like much, but with the hurricanes and that annoying wind, flooding, and constant downpour, it's a bunch.
Deep thought of the day: do we really truly know our friends? Borrowed tapes of "I love the 90's" and found half of tape filled with Nascar Winston Cup race. Mistake...or hidden yearnings of red-neck glory? Hmmm.
8.09.2004
8.07.2004
As anyone who knows me knows, I like to read, but only in bunches....I have to have a group of books from which I choose what I feel like reading that moment. My pile is going low, so I've been scanning the bookstores, etc, but now I'm overwhelmed with wading through the crap. I trust my friends' judgement, so give me some suggestions already.
8.06.2004
Urgh, feel commentor's remorse. Have posted super pretentious lawyerly philosophical diatribe. Sorry eL. Don't blog when you're drunk. And....why so angry about women?
8.04.2004
OK, blog much....it's Wednesday, I'm unmotivated. My mental dialogue is firing away:
Hmmm, Vermont farmers' worries on the last Phish concert...What about? Will the end of Phish mean the end of Ben and Jerry's? My God!!
(I click on the headline)
Oh...nope, only about a farmer's concern for her pigs. Ewww. A concert right next to a pig farm. Disgusting.
(As I scan the article further)
And traffic. Yeah, that would suck
(To mental soundtrack of Red Hot Chili Pepper's Dosed)
Ah, Vermontian mountain highway...
(Mental epiphany)
Smart concert planner, actually. Only at a Phish concert would no one notice the lovely smell of a nearby pig farm. Patchouli.
Hmmm, Vermont farmers' worries on the last Phish concert...What about? Will the end of Phish mean the end of Ben and Jerry's? My God!!
(I click on the headline)
Oh...nope, only about a farmer's concern for her pigs. Ewww. A concert right next to a pig farm. Disgusting.
(As I scan the article further)
And traffic. Yeah, that would suck
(To mental soundtrack of Red Hot Chili Pepper's Dosed)
Ah, Vermontian mountain highway...
(Mental epiphany)
Smart concert planner, actually. Only at a Phish concert would no one notice the lovely smell of a nearby pig farm. Patchouli.
This is a story about Happy Butt. Happy Birthday!!!!
A little girl is entering class for the first time when a friendly little boy approaches her. “My name’s Andre,” he says, “What’s yours?”
“Happy Butt,” the little girl replies.
“I’m going to tell the teacher on you for lying!” the boy shouts, as he giggles quietly to himself.
He goes to the teacher, Ms. Scimmia (munkeigh in Italian) and says that the little girl has lied to him about her name. “What is your name?” asks the teacher.
“Happy Butt,” says the little girl.
“No, no,” the teacher says. “What is your real name?”
“Happy Butt,” the little girl insists.
“Shame on you for lying,” says the Ms. Scimmia. “You go straight to the principal’s office right this minute!”
“Why are you here?” the principal, Mr. Fuzzy asks.
“They think I’m lying when I tell them my name is Happy Butt,” the little girl says.
“Your name can’t be Happy Butt,” the principal says. “I’m going to call your mother and straighten this out. You mustn’t lie to us about your name.”
Mr. Fuzzy calls the mother and says, “We have your little girl here and she keeps telling us her name is ‘Happy Butt’.”
“Oh,” says the mother, “that must be Gladdys.”
“Little girl,” the principal says, “your mother says your name is Gladdys.”
The little girl asks, “Happy Butt, Glad Ass, what’s the difference?”
A little girl is entering class for the first time when a friendly little boy approaches her. “My name’s Andre,” he says, “What’s yours?”
“Happy Butt,” the little girl replies.
“I’m going to tell the teacher on you for lying!” the boy shouts, as he giggles quietly to himself.
He goes to the teacher, Ms. Scimmia (munkeigh in Italian) and says that the little girl has lied to him about her name. “What is your name?” asks the teacher.
“Happy Butt,” says the little girl.
“No, no,” the teacher says. “What is your real name?”
“Happy Butt,” the little girl insists.
“Shame on you for lying,” says the Ms. Scimmia. “You go straight to the principal’s office right this minute!”
“Why are you here?” the principal, Mr. Fuzzy asks.
“They think I’m lying when I tell them my name is Happy Butt,” the little girl says.
“Your name can’t be Happy Butt,” the principal says. “I’m going to call your mother and straighten this out. You mustn’t lie to us about your name.”
Mr. Fuzzy calls the mother and says, “We have your little girl here and she keeps telling us her name is ‘Happy Butt’.”
“Oh,” says the mother, “that must be Gladdys.”
“Little girl,” the principal says, “your mother says your name is Gladdys.”
The little girl asks, “Happy Butt, Glad Ass, what’s the difference?”
Oh the purpose of the blog. For some, the blog is a great endeavor. The chance to express one's great literary masterpiece of humor, wit, knowledge, and skill with a poignant, ironic flavor. The blog to me is a venue for examining the happiness, fun, drama, and pain of everyday life. "Examining" in the sense that I write up a quick diatribe about something that happened to me today or a pattern of happenings, and toss in a few inside jokes. For some, my blog is a waste of time/creative energy. But I have my creative moments, followed by other less creative, yet more important things that I need to think about or do, so the blog is a great outlet for venting without letting my soul be completely sucked away by real work. The only problem is, I also do not believe that blogs should be a daily journal of every thought, feeling, or occurance of the day. (BOOOORRRRING. Oops, almost lost pretentious tone. Sorry, ahem, tres ennuyeux.) It's a fine line between not having anything to blog about and too much information.
So, onto the real blog:
Regardless of my body's constant and distracting reminder that I haven't reproduced (for you men out there, I'm complaining that cramps really suck), I feel good today. Have saved the earth, etc. It seems that the garbage company never alerted me or anyone in my street that they picked up recycling. My inner Sierra Club girl wept as I haphazardly tossed glass, newpaper, aluminum cans, and plastic bottles in the trash, week after week. Until today. My laziness finally overridden by the analytical training and overall righteous feeling resulting from argument with co-worker over their stupidity (aka Bush conservatism*), I realized that I cannot accept the state of the world just as I see it. So what if my neighbors do not do something, that doesn't mean that they can't. I should strive to improve and motivate others in my wake. Bugger my Republican lazy ass neighbors! I shall change the status quo, I shall recycle!
*Political statement done on own private blog and the independence standard of my workplace does not apply. Tthfft to you, Mr. Walker.
So, onto the real blog:
Regardless of my body's constant and distracting reminder that I haven't reproduced (for you men out there, I'm complaining that cramps really suck), I feel good today. Have saved the earth, etc. It seems that the garbage company never alerted me or anyone in my street that they picked up recycling. My inner Sierra Club girl wept as I haphazardly tossed glass, newpaper, aluminum cans, and plastic bottles in the trash, week after week. Until today. My laziness finally overridden by the analytical training and overall righteous feeling resulting from argument with co-worker over their stupidity (aka Bush conservatism*), I realized that I cannot accept the state of the world just as I see it. So what if my neighbors do not do something, that doesn't mean that they can't. I should strive to improve and motivate others in my wake. Bugger my Republican lazy ass neighbors! I shall change the status quo, I shall recycle!
*Political statement done on own private blog and the independence standard of my workplace does not apply. Tthfft to you, Mr. Walker.